


Something About the Sunshine

by schmulte



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Alex is forever not impressed, Fluff, Getting Together, Henry is a gay musician, M/M, Starstruck AU, Strangers to Lovers, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:29:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29794023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schmulte/pseuds/schmulte
Summary: Henry Fox is a famous musician just breaking out on his own. He's got money, fame, power, everything he could want in life. There's just one problem: he's hiding a big secret.When he meets Alex, the brother of a fan from Texas, one fateful night out in LA, Henry's life will change for the better. AU of the Disney Channel Original Movie, Starstruck.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	Something About the Sunshine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Al_in_the_air](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Al_in_the_air/gifts).



> Thank you to everyone from the discord server who tolerated me gushing about this au for the past several days- I hope this chapter was worth the wait!  
> Continuing my legacy, one dumb au at a time

It’s not easy being a celebrity. Sure, it has its perks- there’s money, of course, and fame, and thousands upon thousands of fans. There’s interviews and merchandise with your face on it, there’s people all over the world with your lyrics tattooed on their bodies. It’s amazing, and exhilarating, and the best thing in the world, to be able to touch so many lives. 

But it can be so incredibly lonely. 

Pez, Henry’s best friend since diapers, is the only reason he goes to these parties. Accustomed to fame and fortune since birth, Percy Okonjo, heir to Okonjo Records, is possibly the only person in the entire world who actually understands Henry. It’s a mystery to the world why they’re friends- Pez, with his studded pink Gucci jackets and painted nails, looks out of place next to Henry’s subdued uniform of jeans and henleys, occasionally a few layered necklaces or rings. But the bond between the two of them is stronger than anything. Which is how Henry so often finds himself in trouble. 

Take the other night, for example. Henry and Pez were out for a simple guys night, just the two of them, but of course, Pez had to pick a fight with the paparazzi. Which meant that Henry also had to pick a fight with the paparazzi. Which led to a front-page picture of Henry with a bloody nose and his fist raised, which led to a thorough dressing-down from his brother, who just so happens to be his manager.

You see, realistically, Henry is b-list, at best. He’s just breaking out on the mainstream music scene, and while his first album has been a massive success, it’s not the reason he’s so famous. No, he’s famous for being the blonde-haired, blue-eyed son of a former James Bond actor with a voice like honey and a smile that could launch a thousand ships. The perfect heterosexual hearthrob, a blonde Harry Styles. There’s just one problem: Henry is undeniably, unquestionably, gay, and any evidence of that getting out could ruin his career, according to Philip. 

So tonight, when all Henry had wanted was to go out to the gay bar without cameras hounding him, Pez had arranged for a backdoor entrance and exit while he gets the car from a discreet location. It should be the perfect escape- the door opens to a back alley with no security tapes, that’s wide enough for the car to come pick him up directly from the door. Unfortunately for Henry, fate seems to have other plans for him tonight. The alley is unlit, and in his rush to leave, he doesn’t notice someone walking by, and hits him full in the face with the door. 

“Oh my god,” Henry watches in horror as the person he’s hit falls to the pavement. “Did I just hit you?”

The person he’s hit, a boy around Henry’s age, frowns up at him, holding his head. “No, the door just hit me by itself.”

“Oh, dear, this is not good,” his attention is split between the need for discretion outside the back door of a gay bar and this person he’s just possibly given a concussion, who looks very, very angry with him. 

“For you or for me?” the boy retorts. “Because right now it’s looking a lot worse for me.” Then, there’s the dreaded moment of recognition, the widening of the eyes as the boys starts to say, “Wait, you’re--”

Henry quickly covers the boy’s hand with his mouth. “I will give you front row tickets to my next concert if you don’t scream.” Surprisingly, the boy shoves Henry away, still frowning. It’s rather cute, the way his nose crinkles when he’s frowning. 

“Jesus, man, I don’t want tickets to your stupid concert. Ow, fuck.”

The headlights of Henry’s car flashes next to them, Pez signaling that they need to go. He helps the stranger to his feet and holds him steady, careful to mind his head. 

“I’m going to get you to a doctor, alright? You may have a concussion.”

“Wait, my sister’s still inside the club--”

“I’ll send a car, don’t worry. Pez, a little help here, please?”

Pez gets out of the car, an eyebrow raised at the boy in Henry’s arms. “What the fuck did you do?”

“I’ll explain later,” Henry reassures him. “Help me get him in the car?”

Together, they get the boy in the passenger’s seat and get him buckled in. He looks pale, and a little woozy, but there’s no blood. Pez leans over through the open passanger’s side door, looking at Henry as if he’s grown a second head. 

“Who is this?”

“My name’s Alex,” the boy groans, still holding his head. 

“Lovely to meet you, Alex,” Henry says, hoping to god this boy won’t sue him. Alex gives him a withering look. 

“I can think of lovelier ways.”

Henry doesn’t know why, but he almost feels...impressed? He’s never had anyone act this calm around him before, and no one has dared to ever speak to him in that rude a manner, though maybe that’s just the concussion talking. Still, it’s actually somewhat. Nice. 

And then Alex promptly ruins any warm feelings by vomiting on Pez’s Gucci shoes. 

“I’ll buy you new shoes, alright?” Henry tells him. “I’ll send a car, make sure his sister June gets home alright.”

“You owe me, Haz.”

The drive to the hospital is relatively silent- Henry has to jostle Alex a few times to keep him awake, but that’s the worst of it. His heart rate has slowed a bit, now that they’re away from the club, and the reality of future NDAs and possibly a lawsuit starts to settle in. Philip is going to kill him. 

Shaan makes Henry wait outside the dividing curtain, but he can still hear everything that’s happening. Alex's concussion is extremely mild, thank god, but he’ll have to make sure to ice the bump. 

“How come I threw up?” Alex asks. His voice sounds a lot more pleasant when it’s not directed at him. 

“It could have been something you ate, or a reaction to meeting the idiot on the other side of the curtain.”

“You know him?”

“We go, as the kids say, way back. I’ll be right back, let me go get your discharge papers.”

As soon as Shaan is gone, Henry steps inside the curtain. Alex looks better, more color in his cheeks, and now that he’s seeing him in the light, Henry is. Well, Henry is immediately infatuated. Not that he can do anything about it, of course, and he doesn’t really expect the person he hit with a door to like him anyway, but objectively speaking, Alex is very, very attractive. And, since he was at the same club Henry was, likely not straight.

“Henry?” Alex says, left eyebrow raised. Henry blinks.

“Hm?”

“Your phone’s been ringing for, like, five minutes.”

“Shit--” Oh, he completely zoned out. How can that even be possible- he was only looking at Alex. He fumbles with the phone as he struggles to answer, and when he does, he wishes he hadn’t.

“Where are you?” Philip’s voice immediately rings out. “You were supposed to be home an hour ago.”

“I got sidetracked, I’m sorry.”

“Do you not remember what you’re supposed to be doing tonight?”

Shit. The party, of course. Investors and movie directors, the creme de la creme of Hollywood elites, at his house, tonight. He’s supposed to give a performance. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. 

“I’ll be home in twenty minutes. Stall for me, please, Philip.”

“Fine, twenty minutes.”

And as if nothing else could go wrong tonight, when Shaan returns with the discharge papers, he kindly informs Henry that there are about twenty men with cameras crowding the waiting room. Henry pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut. 

“Shaan, what kind of car do you drive?”

“Nothing you’d be interested in. Some of us are still paying off six years of medical school.”

Henry holds out his keys. “Trade with me.”

Which is how Henry finds himself driving a car that’s likely older than he is, with Alex in the passenger’s seat, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. 

“Jesus--” Alex jumps when the car makes a loud _ pop _ . “Are you sure this is safe?” 

“Absolutely no clue,” Henry admits, knuckles white as he grips the wheel tightly. “Just try to relax, alright?”

“Oh, yeah, relax, when I’ve basically been kidnapped and abandoned my sister in a city she doesn’t live in. God, she’s gonna kill me...”

“Pez is going to take care of your sister, don’t worry about it. And I’ll get you home soon, I promise. We just need to make a stop, first…”

Sneaking Alex into the house is relatively easy; after all, Henry spent his entire adolescence sneaking boys in and out of this house, that’s not the hard part. He gets him up to his room without anyone noticing, feeling like his brain is flying a mile a minute. How long ago was he at the club? How long were they at a hospital?

“Look, if you’re gonna hold me hostage, could I at least borrow a sweatshirt?” Alex asks, arms folded across his chest. Henry rushes to grab his guitar and gestures vaguely to his dresser. 

“Grab anyone you want. I’ll be right back, just- don’t leave this room, alright?”

“Do I have a choice?”

Henry doesn’t have the time to reply, just runs out of the room and slams the door behind him. Tomorrow he’ll wake up in bed, and this will all have been some terrible stress dream, and everything will go back to the way it was. No secret hospital visits, trading cars; no challenging glint in Alex’s eyes, the quirk of his lips when he’s teasing him...no. None of that, it’s not possible, and even if it were, he’s pretty sure Alex hates him. There is no possible way on earth that he and Alex will ever, ever work. 

  
  



End file.
